


Insomnia

by chidoriXblossom



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chidoriXblossom/pseuds/chidoriXblossom
Summary: Virgil is plagued by insomnia but doesn't feel it's worth mentioning to his family. As always, his brothers find out and do what they can to help him.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gumnut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a little fic for Gumnut, who has exhausted her muse. But, as always, I am incapable of writing a "short" fic. I threw in a little Virgil whump because there's never enough of it mwahaha.

At 12:45am Virgil brought Thunderbird Two in to land as gently as he could and she trundled into her hangar with a lethargy that matched her pilot. Another long string of missions completed at last. Some better than others. Virgil was ready to hit the sack.

Post-flight checks, some toast and a hot shower saw him still up and about at 1:30am, by which point he felt like a zombie and slumped into bed with a weary sigh. He was out for the count the split second his head hit the pillow.

Only to jump awake in a cold sweat with a pounding heart just over an hour later. Damn nightmares. Some of his recent missions were coming back to haunt him. Hardly surprising given their outcome. Lives had been lost, despite his best efforts.

Sometimes not everyone could be saved.

Virgil had to live with that.

He lay in the darkness for a long time, mind wandering from mission to mission, second guessing and doubting every decision he’d made. The wrong thing to do but he couldn’t help himself.

3am became 4am. His eyes were dried out and stinging, desperate for sleep that just wouldn’t come. He tried counting the distant waves as he heard them breaking on the rocky shore. Then he got distracted by a sudden idea on how to possibly increase the tensile strength of Thunderbird Two’s magnetic cables. He had to note them down before he risked forgetting.

At a little after 5am the first birds on Mateo started to wake from their slumber and call out to the fresh ocean breeze. They seemed to taunt Virgil who wanted nothing more than sleep, his tablet now forgotten on his bedside unit.

6am came around and he heard footsteps pass his doorway. Saw the first signs of golden light spilling underneath. Scott was usually the first to greet the morning sun, heading out for his run like clockwork every day unless he was needed for a rescue.

Virgil listened until those footsteps faded away, wondered briefly how his brother was able to function so early in the morning, then finally slipped into glorious sleep.

The alarm that screamed for an immediate call to action gave him such a fright that he was up and out of his bed before he was even fully conscious. Hands raised in front of him in a vaguely defensive stance he had to blink a few times until his brain came online and he registered that he was indeed awake and standing like an idiot in his own room.

Then he was out the door and heading for his chute. It was 8:17am. His body ran on adrenaline and nothing else.

He didn’t get time to think about how little sleep he’d had until the trip home some twelve and a half hours later. His body ached from prolonged use of the exosuit. Muscles had been overtaxed, joints pushed to the limits even with the support of his gear, and he could definitely feel all the new bruises cropping up over older ones that hadn’t had a chance to heal yet.

Alan and Gordon were in the cockpit with him, both also feeling the strain of the day, so conversation was almost non-existent.

They got Two home, trudged up to the lounge for a debrief with Scott and were then released. Virgil inhaled a quick meal, had another hot shower, and tumbled into his bed way earlier than he normally would. Sleep came to him blissfully quick, but as with the night before it did not last.

A long night of tossing and turning followed. No matter what he did he could not get comfy. His pillow was too flat and made his neck twinge. The sheets were awkwardly wrinkled underneath him from all his fidgeting. His body ached all over.

At one point he got up for a drink of water and briefly considered a trip to the infirmary for some pills that would knock him out, but ultimately he decided against it. Should the alarm go off again he would need to have a clear head. He sipped on his water and idly flicked through the notifications on his phone. Checked a few engineering blogs, some art sites and read a couple of interesting articles from various news platforms.

Over an hour ticked by before he realised he was still standing by the sink in his ensuite, his ass thoroughly numb from leaning back against the cold marble counter for so long. With a grumble he hobbled back to bed, flopped down rather ungracefully which aggravated his bruising and triggered a headache, and tossed his phone onto his bedside unit.

Then he just lay there. And lay there...and lay there…

Seriously, why couldn’t he just go to sleep and stay that way for a healthy amount of time? Was it really too much to ask? Normally Virgil was a heavy sleeper and likened to a hibernating bear by his brothers. He himself admitted he was useless without a minimum of six hours, and even then his effectiveness was minimal.

Of course things were different when he was called out on missions. Virgil was nothing if not professional while he worked. Copious amounts of coffee and snack bars kept him functioning adequately when push came to shove, and he often had at least one brother to assist him if he needed any help.

Everyone worked hard. Everyone got tired from so much work and pressure. He had no right to complain or wallow in any self pity.

...

Why the hell was he thinking about all this? Ugh, his brain was too active for someone who should be well into the land of nod by now. 

A glance at his clock almost had him whimpering. 5:37am. Scott would be up in less than half an hour.

Virgil wanted to sleep. The birds on Mateo were particularly loud this morning - damn things. Hadn’t John said something about a storm coming in? Tracking a cyclone and Fiji being on high alert? That was never good. Assuming it didn’t directly hit the island and ground them, Thunderbirds One and Two would undoubtedly be scrambled again and again to assist in the aftermath.

The work of International Rescue was never done. Sometimes it seemed like the very Earth itself was against them.

And why the hell was Virgil still thinking about this now?! Too many thoughts - he was wasting precious sleep time!

Sleep time that wouldn’t come…

With a snarl of frustration he finally launched himself up from his bed and stormed out of his rooms, sick to the back teeth of waiting for rest. If sleep had abandoned him then he would just go and worship his saviour.

A steaming cup of the blackest coffee the Earth had to offer.

~*~

The spectacular mornings of fresh cool air were one of Scott Tracy’s favourite things about his daily run. There was always something so invigorating about getting out to enjoy the island before anyone else was awake, when the quiet was all to himself and he could take a few moments to forget about everything else. To breathe the sweet ocean air and welcome the dawn.

Today, however, was not one of those beautiful mornings he was honestly spoiled with. Instead of the warm pastels which would steadily give way to endless blue, on this particular morning everything was overcast and dull. The breeze was a bit stronger too, still far off anything to worry about, but more than enough to pause the IR Commander in his strides and have him contemplate the sky. A precursor for what was yet to come.

Whenever a storm hit these waters the island always went into lockdown. John would monitor everything from Thunderbird Five and advise them on whether or not it was safe to launch, and calls to the GDF would have to be made in the event that International Rescue could not attend any missions. 

It was always a frustrating time for Scott. Tropical storms caused chaos which resulted in people being in need of help, but any halt in operations advised by John had to be taken seriously. If the Thunderbirds went down in bad weather there was no one around to rescue them.

With the weather in mind the eldest Tracy brother took one of the shorter paths back to the villa and trotted up the steps by the pool. He didn’t reach the kitchen before he skidded to a halt, blue eyes widening at the sight that greeted him.

Virgil, still in the sweatpants and tight vest he liked to sleep in, was stood at the coffee machine with an expression so dark it put the building clouds approaching the island to shame.

Virgil. Awake. Before 8am. That just did not happen. Not unless there was something seriously out of sorts.

It wasn’t uncommon to see Kayo or Gordon up at this time getting ready for their own morning routines, and Grandma usually wasn’t far behind. Even Brains and Max occasionally had an earlier start than normal. But never Virgil.

Scott approached slowly, as if he’d just stumbled across an angry bear - which he might as well have. “Morning.”

His cautious greeting was met with a thunderous look, then a grunt and Virgil turned away. There was some angry jabbing of buttons when the coffee machine seemed to refuse to cooperate, and Scott took that as a warning not to attempt further conversation.

He skirted around the edge of the danger zone and made his way to the fridge, then a nearby cupboard. A bowl of cereal for breakfast and then he’d try again for conversation with his seriously grumpy brother.

A little patience was known to go a long way.

\---

The coffee machine whirred and then clicked off, leaving Virgil’s mug empty of his heart’s current desire. He frowned and jabbed at the buttons again, only for the same thing to happen. What the hell?

The coffee machine was a couple of years old now and did get used to excess on a daily basis. If it had finally given up the ghost it wasn’t that surprising, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Virgil needed coffee and he needed it now, dammit!

Headache building, his whole body heavy with fatigue and with a mind that was more than a little hazy, the Thunderbird Two pilot curled a fist and brought it down hard on the top of the machine.

The good old Jeff Tracy fix usually worked on the tired appliance, but its continued existence was now being threatened. Little was known to survive a blow from Virgil’s powerful fists - more than a few pods had lost their keypads over the years when he forgot about his own strength and smashed them. 

At this rate the defiant coffee machine would be joining them.

The fog in his head failed to lift as he struggled to comprehend what the actual problem was. All his engineering knowledge and expertise had abandoned him. The problem might be staring him in the face - he honestly couldn’t tell.

The lack of decent sleep for days on end was finally catching up with Virgil’s exhausted mind and body. Just standing there seemed to take way more effort than it should. The ache in his shoulders and head gave way to a kind of numbness, vague as his vision turned hazy. His limbs weighed a tonne.

He was just so tired…

He wanted coffee.

So tired…

Coffee…

Tired…

Darkness.

\---

Scott glanced round just in time to see Virgil listing to the side and immediately abandoned his cereal. With a speed to match his ship the eldest Tracy son bolted across the short distance between them and grabbed at his brother.

Virgil was going down and Scott couldn’t do much against the sudden dead weight, but he did what he could in those few seconds of panic and uncontrolled descent, smacking his elbow on the counter on the way down. Better it than Virgil’s head. 

As Virgil slumped to the floor Scott nearly ended up on top of him, but managed to brace himself with an arm above Virgil’s head, cradled by Scott’s opposite hand.

From this unusual vantage point Scott got a close look at disheveled hair, pale skin and the dark smudges under his brother’s eyes that definitely didn’t belong there. Virgil was almost as fussy about his hair as Scott himself, but it clearly hadn’t seen even a comb that morning. 

The protective big brother instinct in Scott flared up as he adjusted himself so he could support Virgil’s head more comfortably. The family bear was down and out.

“Scott?” A glance over his shoulder and Scott noticed Gordon on the stairs, then the widening of caramel brown eyes when he obviously spotted Virgil. He rushed over and immediately offered the towel in his hand to slide under Virgil’s head as a makeshift pillow, releasing Scott’s arm so the eldest could sit up straight. 

“What happened?”

“He just lost consciousness and went down without warning.” A hand moved gently into Virgil’s hair, a careful attempt to rouse him. 

Nothing.

“Grab a med scanner,” Gordon suggested. They always kept one in the kitchen’s first aid kit for emergencies. This more than qualified. 

Grateful for his little brother’s calm Scott did as suggested, and by the time he found the scanner Gordon had raised Virgil’s legs and had them resting over his own lap. Virgil groaned and started to come round.

“Easy,” Scott murmured. One hand reached out to catch Virgil’s wrist as his brother started a weak flail, while the other held the scanner over him. “You’re okay, Virgil.”

\---

Virgil’s eyes cracked open as his brain started to reboot itself. He saw colours first. Varying shades of brown, some blue and a bit of yellow off to one side. 

Next to his awareness came the sensation of cold beneath his back, warmth at his legs and softness under his head. 

A murmur of a voice that sounded familiar.

“You’re okay, Virgil.”

Virgil. That was his name, wasn’t it? He should have known that but for some reason it had been a complete blank a few seconds ago. Why had he not known that?

A soft groan was the next sound he heard, and it took him a few seconds to realise it must have come from his own throat, which felt dry and a little croaky.

“Virgil? Can you hear me?”

Scott. That was Scott’s voice for sure. Virgil could always count on his big brother to be there when he needed him. 

The horrible disorientation finally dissipated and everything began to click into place. The brown he’d seen was the kitchen ceiling and the yellow the cabinets, the cold beneath him the stone floor. Scott’s blue eyes were gazing down at him in a mixture of relief and concern, while the paler blue beam of a med scanner passed over Virgil’s body. 

“You back with us?” Scott’s lips didn’t move and Virgil’s fragile brain was thrown into confusion once again, until the warmth at his legs shifted a little and prompted him to look down the length of his own body. 

Ah. Gordon. Gordon was there too.

What had they been doing again?

“Give him a minute.” Scott and a gentle hand in his hair. It felt nice. Virgil relaxed and closed his eyes. 

“What happened?” A new voice entered the fray and a hand touched him on the shoulder. Smaller, softer than Scott’s.

Kayo?

“He fainted,” Scott’s voice explained. “Blood pressure was low but it’s coming back up now. Heart rate steady.”

Fainted? That was such a ridiculous word. Fainting was what actresses did in movies, over dramatic and always right when a man was there to swoop in and save the day. 

Virgil would have rolled his eyes if they’d been open.

Huh… He didn’t remember shutting them.

His lashes fluttered and light abused his sensitive retinas, causing him to flinch and turn his head away. Damn Scott and that bloody scanner. 

“Sorry, Virg.” He blinked up at him and saw a faint smile pull at his brother’s lips. “Just checking you over. Do you know where you are?”

Virgil frowned, now lucid enough to sense all three pairs of eyes on him. He swallowed and took a breath. “Kitchen… Floor’s cold.”

Sighs of relief all round. Scott’s hand left his hair and moved to his shoulder instead. It was warm and the contrast made him shiver. 

“We’ll get you up in a minute,” Scott told him. “But we need to give your body a chance to settle first.” A slight tilt of the head. “Did you hurt anything?”

Virgil grunted a no and let them fuss about him for a minute, knowing he was powerless to stop them. In this household when any of them went down the rest always converged to help and care for that individual. It was what made them such a close family, though Virgil had never been a fan of being on the receiving end of all that fuss. 

With considerable effort he started to heave himself upright, ignoring all three voices as they tried to talk him out of it. The world spun a little but he did sit up, legs slipping off Gordon’s lap to the cold floor. Scott’s arms came up around him to offer support. Virgil leaned into it gladly.

He felt terrible.

\---

With Gordon’s help Scott eventually managed to get Virgil up off the floor and into a chair at the table. He’d suggested his room and bed at first, but Virgil had immediately dug his heels in and refused. The only reason Scott hadn’t carted Virgil off to the infirmary was because the med scan hadn’t flagged anything serious.

Still Scott was worried. People generally didn’t faint without a reason, and it normally took a lot to bring Virgil down. His brother was as sturdy as his ‘bird.

One thing was certain - he wasn’t about to let what had happened be brushed under the carpet and ignored. Virgil was off missions for the next few days at least, and they would be having a serious discussion about his health.

For now though Scott was content to let his brother sit and finish his breakfast. It was a rare treat for Kayo to cook, but the simple bacon and eggs with toast was much appreciated, and Virgil did look a little better for it. Even if Scott did need to practically force him to eat.

Tired brown eyes slid in his direction, as if sensing his thought process. “Stop worrying.”

Scott frowned. “You fainted. Of course I’m going to worry.”

A weak groan from Virgil and he seemed to deflate in his seat. “Scott, I’m fine.”

“I call bullshit.” And there was Gordon elbowing his way into the conversation, though in this case Scott appreciated the back up. His nerves were still too frazzled from Virgil’s collapse to deal with his denial crap.

“You are not fine.” He left no room for arguments in his tone. “You look terrible for a start and you were dead to the world for several minutes.”

Virgil glared at him. “You say the nicest things.”

“I’m being serious, Virgil. You scared us.” Scott’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did you forget to eat again yesterday?”

Virgil hunched his broad shoulders and stared at the table. “No, I ate. That’s not the reason.”

“Then what is?”

“Nothing.”

“Virgil.”

His dark haired brother at least had the decency to look sheepish when Scott’s Commander tone came out. Kayo’s intense gaze and Gordon hovering probably didn’t help him either.

Honestly, trying to get Virgil to speak up when it came to his own health was like trying to get blood from a stone. Medics really did make the worst patients. Virgil was perfectly suited for that role within International Rescue, with his kind and sensitive nature that always evoked calm in those he tended to. But it was no secret on Tracy Island that Virgil hated being the one needing any care or treatment.

Right now though Scott didn’t give a damn.

Gordon plopped down into an empty chair beside Virgil and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, Virg. You know what Scott’s like so you might as well own up and get it over with.”

Virgil’s dark eyes, still heavily shadowed, stared at his now empty plate. “It’s stupid.” And he sounded so weary and defeated that Scott’s heart panged. He never wanted to hear any of his family sound that way.

“I’m sure it isn’t.” He forced himself to calm down and speak more softly, knowing that Virgil tended to respond better to the more gentle approach. “Tell us so we can try and help.”

\---

Virgil turned his head and stared out towards the ocean. The glass screens were closed all the way in preparation for the approaching storm, and some light rain was already starting to fall. The Thunderbirds would likely remain tucked up in their hangars until it passed.

Maybe he could afford to admit defeat this time. John’s morning check in was due any time now, and if he grounded their ships until the storm passed then his word was law. If that were to happen then Virgil could afford a little downtime.

Not like Scott would let him fly anyway. Not after that little performance earlier. Damn, he was so embarrassed. 

“Virgil.” 

Virgil sighed. Scott was trying really hard not to let his stress get the better of him, but his patience was wearing thin and Virgil didn’t have the energy reserves necessary to deal with it right now. In fact he barely had the energy to remain somewhat semi-functional.

He was so tired.

“I…” His pride took a knocking but he forced the words out. “I can’t sleep.”

He waited for...he wasn’t quite sure what. A scoff? A disapproving frown? A lecture about worrying them over nothing?

None of that came. Only a look of concerned sympathy from his eldest brother and quiet acceptance from Gordon and Kayo. “How long?” Scott’s question was spoken softly, and Virgil found himself grateful for that. 

“Three or four days. I don’t really know why.”

“How much have you slept in that time?” Kayo asked.

Virgil managed a shrug. “Not much. Two or three hours a night.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “With all those big missions?” A frown. “If I’d known I’d have grounded you sooner.”

Virgil fidgeted a little. “I know, but I was needed.”

The ping of an incoming call sounded and John’s hologram appeared from the holodisc on the kitchen table. Virgil didn’t miss the slightly perplexed look when his spacebound brother saw him up at this time, but John had enough tact not to comment.

_“Morning, guys. I hate to jump straight to business but that cyclone is definitely headed your way, so you’ll need to cease operations until it passes.”_

It wasn’t good news, though it was kind of expected. It had been a while since a serious storm had hit the island, so they were kind of owed one. 

“Thanks for the update, John.” Scott was briefly distracted and Virgil relaxed a little. “We’ll need to make the GDF aware of it.”

_“Already done. I’ll keep you informed on any ongoing situations, but for now it’s best that the Thunderbirds remain grounded.”_

“F.A.B.” Scott looked back at Virgil again. “We’ve got enough to keep us busy in the meantime.”

Virgil groaned. 

~*~

By the time everyone else on the island was up the weather was steadily getting worse, as was Virgil’s mood. After a rather heated argument with Scott where he’d pointed out that he was tired, not crippled, Virgil had been granted permission to help batten down the hatches. Everyone now knew about his little fainting episode, so they all watched him like hawks as they gathered up deck chairs, removed the pool ropes and locked all the windows.

Still feeling like a zombie but determined to do his bit, Virgil accompanied Brains to the hangars to ensure all of the storm doors were sealed and that the backup generator was ready if it needed to be called upon, as well as the pumps and dehumidifiers in the unlikely event of water finding a way inside.

The climb back up to the villa was exhausting, and by the time Virgil reached the top of the stairs he could feel gravity trying to push his body to the floor. Speaking of which, the sunken lounge seemed to have been filled with pillows and cushions, courtesy of his two youngest brothers. It was a tradition now to spend any time on lockdown from bad weather in the lounge watching movies, and cushions were always in an abundance.

This however seemed a little excessive.

“Hey, bro.” Alan waved and sent him a bright smile. “Gordon and I are finally gonna build that pillow fort we talked about. Wanna help?”

Virgil offered him a tired smile and shook his head. “I’ll just watch if that’s okay.” He stepped down into the circle and sat down on one of the sofas. His body wanted to melt right there but Virgil denied it the chance.

It was stupid. He was so tired now that he could barely function, but the thought of going back up to his room and lying awake for hours left him feeling anxious. He’d rather be downstairs with his family. Hopefully they’d offer enough of a distraction for him to relax. 

Gordon crawled over the cushions and sat next to Virgil’s knee. “You look pale again, Virg. Why don’t you go for a lie down?”

Virgil shook his head. “I’m fine. Just need to sit quietly for a bit.”

Gordon’s expression told Virgil he wasn’t fooling any of them. “We don’t want a repeat of this morning. Maybe you should take something? We’re all grounded anyway so it’ll be okay to.”

Relying on any kind of drugs was the last thing Virgil wanted. In the past he’d resorted to them when rare bouts of insomnia struck, but he hated that reliance and it never fixed the problem anyway. He was probably just stressed from so many difficult missions lately and this was a result of that - he just needed to take it easy for a while. Spending time with his family would go a long way towards that.

“No drugs.”

“What about one of those more traditional methods?” Kayo suggested, appearing with a tray of snacks. “My father said that warm milk always helped him sleep.”

Virgil curled his lip in disgust. “Yuck.”

“Meditation is supposed to work too,” Alan recalled. “Or hypnosis.”

“You really think that works?” Kayo sounded amused.

“Oh, and hot milk does?!” Alan retorted. “I’m just throwing out ideas that I think might help.”

Virgil growled out a sigh and rubbed a hand down his face. “I appreciate you all trying, but can we just forget about it right now? I’m not in the mood.”

Alan looked a little crestfallen and Virgil immediately hated himself. His family were only trying to help. They shouldn’t have to put up with his crappy mood.

“Sorry.” It came out as a weak murmur. “I just know this isn’t something that can be fixed. Just have to deal with it until it settles on its own.”

Alan wandered over on his knees and sat at Virgil’s other knee. “How long do you think that will take?”

Virgil sighed. “I don’t know, Allie. But don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

~*~

By midafternoon the weather had worsened further, with black skies and large waves crashing off the cliffs. The villa’s location ensured there was no danger from the sea, but the strong winds were starting to really pick up and the rain battered off the glass.

Inside the family was dry and safe, all together in the sunken lounge with a movie on. Bowls of snacks were passed around and Max was a little robotic star, returning to the kitchen for more when anything ran out. Virgil did notice a distinct lack of coffee when drinks were brought round, but one look at Scott and he thought better about asking for some.

It would have been a no anyway…

Stupid Scott. Virgil needed coffee!

Half way through the movie they had to pause as John had another update on the storm. It had changed course slightly but was still bearing down on them, so any hopes at their grounding being lifted early were shattered.

Virgil didn’t dwell on it though. He had now passed the point of caring, slouched on the sofa beside Scott with his head resting against the back. He was so exhausted he was starting to feel unwell again, but every time his eyes fluttered he felt himself jolt fully awake in a weird kind of panic.

It was illogical. It made no sense. And yet he couldn’t stop it.

What on Earth had made him so anxious about sleep? The fact that he couldn’t, or how his body kept luring him into a false sense of security, dropping off for a few hours only to then force him back into wakefulness? His own mind had taunted him relentlessly over the past days with that, each time leaving him feeling even worse when he woke up than he had before.

As if having the expectations and eyes of the world on him wasn’t pressure enough, or lives in his hands. Now he couldn’t even go to bed at night without feeling anxious and doomed to clock watch for hour after hour after hour.

Maybe he needed to speak to someone. Someone outside the family. A registered counsellor perhaps. Everyone had their limits. Maybe Virgil had finally reached his and this was his body’s way of telling him, by denying him the rest he needed to continue with rescues.

Did that make sense?

Ugh, everything was so muddled and fuzzy.

He’d stopped paying attention to the film ages ago, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling instead, hearing the lashing rain outside. He only knew the movie was paused because Scott was no longer by his side. Bathroom break maybe? Virgil hadn’t been listening either. He’d heard quiet conversations amongst their group since sitting down, but none of what was said had got through to him.

It was like he was on his own kind of autopilot. 

“Virgil?”

The lights were on, but nobody seemed to be home.

“Viiiirgiiiiil?” A nudge at his knee.

He lifted his head sharply. “What?!” The word came out harsher than he intended, but he was beyond exhausted and cranky to boot, so whoever had disturbed him shouldn’t have expected anything different.

It had been Gordon, sat in a pile of cushions on the floor with Alan. His aquanaut brother wasn’t fazed in the slightest by his mood, and simply pointed to something over Virgil’s shoulder.

Grumpily, Virgil turned to look.

His eldest brother was standing at the top of the steps with what appeared to be a large green blanket in his arms. It was darker than the green of Virgil’s beloved ‘bird but still a very nice shade, and the fibres looked sleek and soft.

He blinked up at him in confusion. “Huh?”

Scott’s smile was warm and the look in his eyes hopeful. “You didn’t look too comfortable so I figured I’d try this.”

Virgil scowled. Not in annoyance, just tired puzzlement. What good would a blanket do? He wasn’t cold. There may be a mad storm blowing outside but they were still on a tropical island. Virgil’s sluggish brain couldn’t figure out Scott’s logic.

“Oh! Is that the one you were telling me about?” Gordon’s chipper voice sounded all the more cheerier against Virgil’s low grunt of vague interest.

“Yeah. It was meant to be a birthday present but needs must.” Scott came down into the sunken lounge and stood in front of Virgil. Clear blue met weary brown and they stared at each other. If Scott was waiting for some kind of intelligent response from him then he was going to be disappointed. Virgil just didn’t have the energy.

Scott’s gaze softened. “Lie down.”

A slight quirk of a dark eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Scott rolled his eyes. “You don’t want meds and claim that nothing else works. So let me try this one thing.”

“A blanket?”

A nod.

Virgil sighed and rubbed at his face. “Won’t do no good.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

A weary sigh. “Scott…” He really didn’t have the strength to argue right now. “Insomnia can’t just be fixed with a snap of your fingers.”

“But I’m not snapping my fingers.” That earned him another of Virgil’s grumpy growls. “Come on, Virg. Humour me.”

It was an argument Virgil was never going to win, so he swallowed his pride and finally caved to his brother’s suggestion. Toeing off his boots he heard them thunk onto the floor and then tipped himself sideways. Gordon flew forward to catch him and Virgil vaguely realised he should have been more careful, but the thought didn’t linger as a pillow was slid under his head and his legs were lifted up onto the sofa.

“Easy does it, bro,” Gordon told him, a hand on his shoulder until he had to move back for their older brother. “Scott always has good ideas.”

“I’d dispute that,” Virgil commented, quiet and listless.

It seemed he’d also stopped caring about being smothered by his family now. 

Scott appeared above him with the blanket in hand. “We can argue about it later. For now just relax.” He draped the blanket over Virgil’s body, ensuring he was covered from shoulder to toe, and tucked the edges in to prevent it from slipping.

Virgil lay there, still quietly perplexed, until his sluggish brain finally realised there was something different about the blanket. Not only was it soft and his favourite colour, but it was heavy. It sank down around his body almost like an embrace which his body immediately melted into.

A weighted blanket. He’d heard of them but never had one. They were supposed to help with sleep disorders, amongst other things, but Virgil had never seen the need to own one until now.

Trust Scott to be this prepared and have one already.

He watched as his brother settled down on the floor in front of him. Scott’s large hand found his wrist through the blanket and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I figured it might come in handy someday. We’re going to put the movie back on now. You stay put.”

Virgil found himself nodding with a tiny smile. His gaze lingered on the back of his brother’s head for a moment as Scott turned to face the projection again and the movie resumed. The attention was immediately off him and Virgil let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

Watching anything sideways while lying down wasn’t the most comfortable way of viewing, but he’d seen the film before and the sofa was now way too comfortable for him to even consider moving. The blanket felt divine too. Virgil rarely got cold, but the heavy material was so cozy and comforting, hanging over his body in a way that felt pleasantly secure and safe.

Conversation started up again quietly within the group. Virgil heard Scott and their Grandma exchange a few words, until his attention slid away again and he went back to half watching, half daydreaming.

The weather outside still sounded horrendous, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look again. He was warm, he was comfy, and his family were close by. He’d need to make it up to them for putting up with all the hassle he’d caused. He’d worried them unnecessarily when he could have just told them the truth days ago.

Insomnia was nothing to be ashamed of after all. It sucked, but it happened.

But now he had a weighted blanket from his big brother and suddenly everything felt better. It was almost funny how such a small and simple gesture could often mean so much. The aches in his body eased. The tension melted from his shoulders and neck. His frayed nerves started to relax.

A slow blink and he nuzzled a little further into the softness. 

He’d thank Scott later, for looking after him.

The sideways projection of the movie started to blur and double, crossing over each other as Virgil’s eyelids grew heavy.

His big brother always looked after him…

Scott’s head moved as he spoke to someone, the comforting sound of his voice reaching Virgil’s ears and soothing him further, even after Scott disappeared into the black.

His big brother…

Virgil should thank him…

He should…

In a minute...

…

~*~

Scott was picking out the next movie to watch when Gordon touched his arm. Their eyes met and Gordon inclined his head to the sofa they were sitting against. Scott already had a hunch but turned to look all the same.

Virgil’s eyes were closed, lips slack and his breathing deep and even with his face half buried in his pillow. He was fast asleep. With his unstyled hair rather adorably fluffy he reminded Scott of simpler times as kids, long before they’d carried the responsibility of International Rescue on their now broad shoulders.

Colour that had been absent that morning was back in his brother’s cheeks, and while the dark bags were still clearly obvious under his eyes Scott knew that Virgil was now out for the count.

“That’s a relief,” he whispered, letting his own shoulders relax. “We’ll keep the volume down a bit but stay here. I think he feels better with us all around right now.”

“How did you know a blanket would fix his insomnia?” Alan asked curiously.

Scott shook his head and picked a movie. “I didn’t. And one good sleep won’t cure his insomnia, Alan, only his immediate exhaustion. We’ll all need to keep an eye on him for the next while and make sure he’s doing okay. Support him where we can.” A fond smile. “You know what Virgil’s like for hiding things.”

“Worse than you,” Alan commented.

A chuckle from Scott. For once he wouldn’t argue.

The opening credits started, the storm continued to rage outside, and the faint snores emerging from his younger brother under that weighted blanket behind him made Scott’s heart feel just a little lighter.

Sleep well, Virgil.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you read this I hope you enjoyed it. I have suffered from a more minor form of insomnia so I hope I did this justice. Thanks for reading


End file.
